Today has been a strange day. It was the day we were due to welcome our new baby. I was planning for hospitals and childcare for our son. I’d decided when I would start my maternity leave and my husband was saving his holidays so he could have some time off. My mother was due to come and stay for a couple of weeks, and I knew that friends from church would be dropping off meals. But we’d barely announced the pregnancy to our family and friends before it was over. I miscarried.
Miscarried. It’s such a small word that encompasses so much. Any parents who have lost a child in this way know that this word does very little to capture the physical and emotional impact of the loss of life. Miscarriage is too tidy a word for the blood and tears that come. These little ones are dearly loved all the more for being so small. They are so special, and they are gone too soon into the arms of our heavenly Father.
The Pain of Grief Is Great
Losing a baby is the worst pain I have experienced, and it often hurts so much I can hardly catch my breath. They are never far from my thoughts, and I keep catching myself imagining how each moment could have looked different. I can picture what it would be like to unpack our newborn clothes again—the cute merino onesie with the spots we would have brought them home in. I wonder how we would be disciplining a toddler who loves to climb on the dining room table whilst being newborn–baby–level sleep deprived. I miss our little one so very, very much.
Today was the due date. We’ve had what I would normally term a lovely day. The sky was blue; we went and explored a wildlife park; I got a nap in the sunshine. We marked the day in small ways—my husband bought me flowers and we took a few moments in prayer. Grief has surprised me. Before I had experienced it, I thought that it would feel like everything was all awful, all the time. But, somehow, even on the worst days, the Lord shows me his mercies in ways that lift my heart and point me to hope in him.
But The Lord Is Merciful
Written after the destruction of Jerusalem, the author of Lamentations describes a dark and terrible grief. They say that they are one “who has seen affliction” (Lam 3:1) and recount the ways they have suffered. It’s hard to read. The author knows that the Lord is sovereign over all things, and they know that the judgement they are facing comes from the Lord’s hand.
But there’s a turning point in Lamentations 3:19–24. Here, the author of Lamentations looks back on all that has happened to them, “the wormwood and the gall” (Lam 3:19), and calls to mind the LORD’s great love. They turn and remember that the LORD’s compassion never fails, and that the LORD will be faithful to what he has promised. Verse 21 starts with an all-important “but”:
But this I call to mind,
and therefore I have hope:
The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
“The LORD is my portion,” says my soul,
“therefore I will hope in him.”
Grief is surprising in this way: the LORD’s mercies never cease. The sin and brokenness of this world has wreaked much havoc on our bodies and our souls. Although we may not be facing a specific judgement for specific sin, as the Israelites were in the destruction of Jerusalem, we grieve terrible tragedies of many kinds. And yet, we can be sure that the LORD’s compassion never fails.
We Can Hope in Him
I do not know why we will not meet our baby in this life, but I do know that the Lord will uphold and sustain us through all that has and will come to pass. I have seen this in so many ways since the loss of our little one. I have seen this in many small blessings; they are more than just “good things”. These small mercies, new each morning, are the things that point us to our certain hope. The author of Lamentations responds to the reminder about God’s love by saying “the LORD is my portion”. When we face trial and affliction, the Lord’s blessings points us to himself.
I have seen the Lord’s mercy in the friends who have upheld my family in prayer, when my own prayers feel so weak. I am grateful for the Christian songs and hymns that redirect the attention of my heart. I can depend on the promises in his word that speak of his love and care for me and tell me that he is worth hoping in. Promises like those in Jude 24, Romans 8:15, Revelation 21:4… there are so many. Ultimately, we have the Lord’s mercy in the person of Jesus, the one who can sympathise with our weaknesses. He is the one we can come to to receive mercy and grace in our time of need (Heb 4:16).
Somehow, even when we feel like sorrow upon sorrow has been heaped upon us, God’s love is steadfast. We are assured by these words from Lamentations that even when the worst things we can imagine come to pass, even as we grieve, his mercies are new every morning. Great is his faithfulness.